


Comparisons

by aislingdoheanta



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Episode 5x08 companion, Gen, Ian's POV, M/M, mentions of suicide and suicide attempts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 18:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3539345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aislingdoheanta/pseuds/aislingdoheanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian's first day back from the psych ward and he's struggling because his family can't seem to see him as another other than a mini-Monica. </p>
<p>Alternately titled:  5 people who compared Ian to Monica and 1 person who didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comparisons

1\. LIP

Ian followed his brother and sister out of the hospital and already wished Mickey was there. He’d at least walk next to him and not stare at him like he’d grown another head.

If he was still around anyway.

He slid into the backseat of the car Lip was using—probably that college girl’s, Amanda maybe? They didn’t even wait until they were out of the parking lot before talking about Ian like he wasn’t even there.

“You think he’s going to try to off himself like Monica?” Lip asked Fiona quietly.

“God I hope not,” Fiona said. “This family can’t handle that again.”

Ian wanted to point out that he could hear them, but there was no use. He knew that as soon as he’d gone to that place, they weren’t going to see him anymore.

If he was honest, it started before he was forced to go there. It was just easier to ignore before because it was all talk. But now it’s going to be how they acted around him, how they treated him. It was going to be just like how they treated Monica.

His life as Ian was going to be over. Maybe it already was.

* * *

 

2\. FRANK

Ian walked away from the kitchen, from his family because he _was_ tired. They were too careful, to concerned.

“He’s totally Monica,” Debbie said.

“Without the great ass,” Frank said.

Ian stood on the stairs for a minute, trying not to let Frank’s words get to him. Frank’s always hated him more than the others because he technically wasn’t Ian’s father. Not to mention he’s always reminded Frank of Monica so it wasn’t like the comparison was a surprise.

It just hurt that no one spoke up in his defense.

* * *

 

3\. SAMMI

Ian turned his head because he heard someone rummaging around in his room. He just wanted to sleep, but his family couldn’t understand that.

“Don’t mind me,” Sammi said from the floor. “Just looking for some clothes for Dad to wear.”

Ian didn’t respond and checked his phone. He couldn’t figure out if he was surprised or not that Mickey hadn’t texted him.

“So you have what your mom’s got, huh?” Sammi asked.

Ian didn’t say anything.

“Can’t fight genetics,” Sammi said. “It’ll be easier for you to embrace it. Hiding away from your problems only makes them worse.”

“Okay,” Ian said. He barely knew her and wasn’t going to get in an argument with her. He turned over and closed his eyes, trying to will himself to sleep.

* * *

 

4\. DEBBIE

“Ian!”

Ian turned to face his little sister who was running out of the house.

“Oh my god! There you are.”

“Here I am,” Ian agreed as Debbie rushed toward him.

“What happened to all your pills?” Debbie asked.

“They’re gone,” Ian told her, taking a puff from his cigarette.

“Yeah. I can see that they’re gone. But gone where?” Debbie pushed her hair behind her ears. “Did you swallow them?”

Ian turned to look at her and could hear the unspoken acusation in her voice:  _Did you try to kill yourself, just like Monica did?_

If Debbie knew him at all, she’d know that he’d never kill himself. He was there when Monica did it; he still remembers the blood. Her first thought shouldn’t be concern that Ian would try that.

“No,” Ian told her. He wasn’t Monica. He wished his family would understand that. “They’re flushed.”

“Ian…why would you do that?” Debbie asked quietly, her voice wavering.

Ian wished he could answer her honestly, tell her that he wasn’t about to be given a life sentence like that when he was feeling fine. Yeah, sometimes he was down a little more than usual or he was a little too energetic and wasn’t entirely feeling like himself, but he was still normal. He was still fine.

“They make me feel awful, Debs. Like life is not worth living,” Ian explained. “I feel so much better knowing that they’re gone.”

He wished his family would understand that. Getting rid of the pills was a good thing for him. Maybe tomorrow they would understand. Maybe they’d actually ask what he was feeling and wanting instead of assuming they knew.

* * *

5\. FIONA

“Flushed your pills?” Fiona’s voice caught Ian’s attention and he watched her walk down the stairs toward him. “You get that that’s a full on Monica move, right?”

“I’m not Monica,” Ian said. He wished that his family would see that.

“Come on, let’s go to the clinic. Get you a new prescription,” Fiona said.

“No.”

Fiona brushed her hair out of her face with her hand. “Debbie feels like it’s her fault because I left her in charge—“

“Now you’re trying to manipulate me like we used to do with Monica,” Ian said look down.

“Ian,” Fiona started.

“I’m not Monica.” Ian felt the hurt come rushing back that his siblings, his _family_ could throw him aside so quickly. One little incident and they all swoop in announcing that they know best and deciding that he became Monica overnight. It’s not fair.

“I didn’t slash my wrists over Thanksgiving dinner,” Ian said. “I went for a drive.”

“You took a baby,” Fiona argued like that somehow made him Monica. Monica who never cared about them, who left them on their own. He’s not like Monica.

“I took him…for a drive. And yeah, I guess it was a really long drive and I didn’t plan ahead.” Ian looked up at Fiona. “But I did not hurt that baby. I took care of the baby. I fed the baby. I sang to the baby. I love that baby.

“I get why everyone’s freaking out but you pulled some serious shit not too long ago and everyone didn’t try to turn on you. And permanently medicate you,” Ian said bitterly. It wasn’t fair that he was the one they decided to lock up in that psych ward.

He’d always been there for everyone in his family. He was the one who always had a job, who stayed out of trouble, who was there whenever someone needed him. Where were they when he needed them to just _be there_ and not try to medicate him and change him?

“I went to jail,” Fiona said.

“So did I,” Ian told her. “And now I’m out. I’m not Monica any more than you are.”

Ian watched her walk away and give up.

* * *

 

+1. CARL

Ian heard someone come in and glanced over to see Carl.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you,” Carl said quietly.

“You got any water?” Ian asked, his mouth dry and making it hard to swallow.

Carl grabbed a bottle of Gatorade and passed it to him.

“Thanks,” Ian said, opening it to take a drink.

“What’s it feel like to be crazy?” Carl asked.

Ian sighed. “Like I’m under a wet blanket. Cotton mouth,” he told his brother before taking another drink.

“They give you shock therapy?” Carl asked.

“No,” Ian said.

“Could be me next, you know?” Carl said.

Ian looked at his brother and felt his breath stop for a minute. He’d said as much to Fiona months ago but he’d never wanted it to happen. But here he was, talking about it like it was nothing.

“You ever think about painting yourself and running around naked? I think about that,” Carl told him. “Or flying? I dream about that.”

As much as he didn’t want to have this disease, he didn’t want to see his brother suffer the same fate. After all, he was the only person who’d actually asked Ian about what he was feeling. Yeah, it was strange but it was Carl.

“That doesn’t make you crazy, you know,” Ian told him.

Carl then rattled off about a few things but it was nice to have an actual conversation with someone.  

* * *

 

BONUS: One person who never thought to compare him to Monica. MICKEY

Ian laid there with Mickey in his tiny bed and felt like he could finally breathe again.

When the door had opened he hadn’t expected Mickey’s quiet “Hey” to greet him. He was expecting Fiona to be checking up on him again or Debbie making sure he had enough water. Ian had even turned to face the wall so he could just pretend to be asleep.

If anyone had bothered to ask him, he hadn’t been able to sleep since he woke up that first day at the psych ward. The nights there were too loud, too quiet, and he couldn’t calm himself enough to sleep.

At home it was the same, only different.

But now Mickey was here, holding him, and it felt right. He felt safe for the first time in days, but what felt like weeks. He felt normal again.

Mickey didn’t look at him like a monster or like his walking nightmare like most of his family did because he still saw _Ian_.

“Thank you,” Ian whispered. He was thanking him for being there, for loving him, for not treating him like a walking bomb, for hundreds of things.

Ian’s grip on Mickey tightened and Mickey shifted closer in an attempt to soothe him and it reminded him of those weeks when he had a hard time getting out of bed. But Mickey had stayed, just like he was staying now.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I rewatched 5x08 today and this is what happened. Maybe it's the cold medicine, I don't know. I just have a lot of feelings for Ian Gallagher. If you have a lot of feelings for Ian or a prompt, you can talk to me [here!](http://saras-almanac.tumblr.com/ask) :)


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